


As Inexorable as the Tide

by flaming_muse



Category: Glee
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-31
Updated: 2012-10-31
Packaged: 2017-11-17 11:51:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/551243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt’s routines have always served him well.</p>
<p>set after 4x04 (“The Break Up”), no spoilers beyond</p>
<p>angsty</p>
            </blockquote>





	As Inexorable as the Tide

Kurt’s routines have always served him well. They keep him on track even in the busiest and most stressful of times.

They mean that his clothes are always pressed, no matter how late he might run in the morning, because he never forgets to go over the garments with an iron before he puts them away.

They mean he has Isabelle’s all-important daily calendar in his hand the second he gets to work, because the last thing he does before he leaves at night is arrange it neatly on the corner of his desk.

They mean that even when he’s had three hours of sleep from talking late with Rachel or sitting silently in front of flickering black-and-white movies until the wee hours of the morning he goes to work with his face perfectly moisturized and his hair perfectly coiffed, because he knows exactly how dab, pat, spray, and smooth in just the right places when his eyes are full of sand and his brain won’t be online until he’s had another two cups of coffee.

And they mean that he can get up, get dressed, and make a success of his days as the hours continue to follow one after another after another, like waves rolling against the shore, and his shattered heart hurts not a single drop less.

Just like when his father was near death in the hospital and just like when Karofsky was terrorizing him daily, now his routines keep his toes on solid ground instead of his feelings drowning him completely.

Streams of colleagues and visitors swirl around him, buffeting rivers of eager tourists and bored New Yorkers sweep him up and carry him along in Times Square and on the subway, even a diminishing trickle of texts, calls, and flowers flows toward him from Blaine, and Kurt keeps his head up and continues on, breath by breath, step by step, always going forward no matter the effort it requires, because there’s no other direction to go.

There’s no other course to take. This is the life he is living.

Blaine made his choice, and his choice was not Kurt.

Kurt organizes the latest samples as they come in, and though the bitter anguish of reality can flood into his throat, mixing the ecstasy of fashion with the agony of his life, he doesn’t let it drag him under. He can’t. He sorts Proenza Schouler, Erdem, Missoni, and Balenciaga, and if he sees bow ties and sweater vests when he should be focusing on dramatic gowns and intriguing prints he doesn’t let it slow him down.

Kurt knows that Blaine is sorry. He could see it in his eyes even before he knew why Blaine was singing their song so very sadly. He can see it now in every text he doesn’t answer. He knows that Blaine is hurting, too.

It isn't at all easy for him to know that.

But there’s nothing to be done, nothing to be said. There’s nothing but a blank wall of betrayal that cuts Kurt off from everything they have ever been to each other.

Day flows into night flows into day, and Kurt’s fingers style his hair and answer e-mails, Kurt’s feet follow the familiar paths for conference rooms and coffee, and Kurt’s broken heart beats on and on with the knowledge that even _Blaine’s_ promises were nothing but flimsy words tossed in the air, that even Blaine’s love for him was so easily discarded when measured against temptation.

Kurt’s phone vibrates on his desk, and he wishes it were like a fly buzzing in his ear instead of a siren’s tempting song, but like a siren if he follows its sound there is nothing there for him but destruction on the jagged rocks of heartbreak.

He doesn’t know what stranger is wearing his boyfriend’s face in the picture that lights up the screen, but Kurt can’t speak to him to find out. He doesn’t know how to talk to a Blaine who has done this, because Blaine isn’t this person, Blaine doesn’t hurt him, Blaine loves him more than anyone.

This isn’t something that Blaine would ever do. Except somehow, despite everything Kurt ever believed, it is.

Blaine had a choice, and he chose someone else.

They both said they wanted to be together forever, but Blaine decided there were other things he wanted more.

Kurt dries the dinner dishes with a towel as Rachel hands them to him and thinks that it is hard not to wipe away all of the good parts of his time with Blaine with this one decision. It is hard for Kurt to want to hold onto the good, when it makes it feel like all of it was a lie, like Blaine had been biding his time and waiting for someone different and better, someone who gave him what he so clearly wanted instead of what Kurt offered: his heart.

Blaine’s actions cut deeper than just their love, though that would be devastating enough of a blow to Kurt’s heart; they’ve also harmed their friendship, the bond that has always been there since Blaine passed Kurt his number like a life preserver in a stormy sea. The understanding, support, and connection between them were the most valuable gifts Kurt has ever been given, and now they’re gone, because Kurt has always thought that Blaine respected and cared about him, and now he knows that even if Blaine does he doesn’t care enough.

And so there is nothing to say when the phone rings, because he’s always known how to talk to Blaine, but this isn’t the Blaine he loves. This is someone entirely different.

Kurt wonders as he makes his bed in the morning whether he ever knew Blaine at all.

He considers as he gathers the lunch order in the office whether it really is better to have loved and lost when love turns out not to be a gift of joy, partnership, and admiration but just a dagger in the heart.

He asks himself as he reaches for the floss after he brushes his teeth at night whether if he begins to let out the deep, angry currents of pain running beneath the surface he’s able yet to pull them back in when he needs to.

But he has no answers, only a churning whirlpool in his heart of betrayal, contempt, and utter, rejected devastation.

He knows Blaine has no answers to give him, either.

So Kurt breathes in and out, keeps moving forward, and lets his routines guide him through his days until some hazy future ahead when they will only be a comfort and no longer a crutch.

He knows he won't always feel this way, that life will continue to ebb and flow, and someday his too-soft heart will be ready for love again. He isn't sure that's something to look forward to, because like rebuilding a sandcastle on the beach when the first is washed out to sea the next will never be the same. There’s no way the new foundations can ever feel as strong when he knows what it’s like to watch the waves sweep them away.

And he liked what he thought they had built together so very much...

But he can’t change the world. He can’t stop it. He can’t make time flow backwards and somehow undo what has already been done or turn reality into something it isn't. That's not how life works.

No, life continues on, and so must Kurt.

Heartbeat by heartbeat, hour by hour, day by day, time moves forward, as inexorable as the tide, and so does Kurt.

**Author's Note:**

> Reminder: I am unspoiled for any upcoming episodes and would like to remain that way!


End file.
